


Come Together

by taichara



Category: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:58:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's once again time for the Troopers to chow down on awesome food and reminisce as another winter rolls around.</p>
<p>Mind you, that's all a little more involved this year ~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Together

**Author's Note:**

> For lrodell @ Livehournal for Xmas ~

_Another winter rolling in, another year without some horrible catastrophe landing on our heads._

_I could get used to this._

An uncharitable thought, maybe; but winter, with its early nights and general unpleasantness, tended to have that effect on Ryo whether he liked it or not. Not like Seiji, who -- perversely -- seemed to thrive on the chilly dark season, or Shuu or Touma, say, who hardly noticed. Ryo didn't like the winter, and that was that.

Well, except for their so-called "Christmas" tradition. _That_ was something he could get behind.

Making his way up to Touma's flat, Ryo reflected on how it was going to be their second get-together without Nasti, which was kind of a downer all on its own. But Nasti was out of the country on a research trip of some kind, so they just had to soldier on without her ...

_Even if it means trusting those two not to poison us this year. Last year was Shuu's crack at the kitchen but --_

"Oi, Ryo --!!"

Like a thunderbolt -- or an avalanche -- Shuu surged up from behind and nearly bowled Ryo off his feet before grabbing him in a rib-creaking bearhug that left him grinning and gasping in equal measure. 

"... Hey --"

After one last squeeze Shuu let go, returning the grin.

"Looking good, Sanada --"

"Looking good yourself. Hey, Shuu, you have any idea what they're planning in there? I mean, sure I trust Touma, and I trust Shin, but they're _cooking_. I don't feel like getting poisoned."

"Eh, something involving chicken and seafood. Could've predicted the chicken, really, Christmas and all that, but the rest? No idea."

Shrugging cheerfully, Shuu eeled past Ryo.

"It's probably not anything that complicated, which is cool by me. C'mon man, they're going to think we got lost -- Seiji's already texted me once, even him and Jun're there already. Get the lead out, firebug."

-*-

By some miracle, the flat had been -- mostly -- cleared of bookpiles and printouts of research papers, which meant that once Ryo and Shuu had added their shoes to the clutter and grabbed slippers they could actually find a place to put themselves if they put their minds to it.

Or rather they _could_ , if for some reason they decided not to watch the show --

"Careful, careful, careful --!"

It looked like the kitchen was trying to engulf the rest of the flat. Every thumb-length of counter space was occupied by _something_ , whether bowls of tiny, marinating chicken chunks or other bowls of sliced produce or yet _other_ bowls of ... was that flower tofu draining in those bowls over there?

Blinking, Ryo cast a bemused glance at Seiji -- who was stationed at a table -- while Shuu kept right on moving to comisserate with Shin and Jun, who were both occupied with slicing up sweet potatoes at the far end of the kitchen, at least a good fraction of which were apparently threatening to escape across the floor. It was only after he'd thrown himself down with a faint grunt (old scars pulling across his lower back) that Ryo noticed just what it was Seiji was doing; namely, de-veining a terrifying amount of prawns. Said de-veining was proceeding, in fact, with a delicate precision that was simultaneously fascinating and a little disturbing.

"You're just in time to find a place to volunteer yourself, Ryo. Looks like Shuu's found something to do with himself, so what do you have in mind?"

"Um ... not torturing shrimp. What're you doing, anyway?"

"Removing the gut. You didn't think we actually ate the _whole_ prawn, did you?"

Seiji flicked the offending 'vein' into a tiny bowl, set aside his latest victim, and leaned on one elbow as he took in Ryo's confusion with great amusement.

"But seriously, I'm removing the gut. It looks like this year's going to be some mad combination of tempura of a few different varieties, sesame chicken, and probably an insane kind of just-dreamed-up hot pot involving whatever we haven't used for the first two."

Oh so innocently Ryo snatched a prawn before Seiji could stop him, chewing through half of it before shrugging.

"Sounds like we're having pub food Christmas."

"I guess Touma's madness for history doesn't extend to food; and given that I'd make a bet that it's all he lives off of, I'm not really surprised. Shin's all for it though, and ..."

\-- Seiji shrugged as well, quirking a smile --

"... Well, I don't really see why not? It means we're all doing the work together, like back when we were young and witless."

"Ha. You make it sound like we ever _stopped_.  
"So, where _is_ Touma, anyway? I don't see him around -- he's not pulling one of his pranks again is he, because that got annoying at least three years back --"

"Oh, he's off to get sesame seeds. Apparently he didn't have enough for the amount of chicken we're going to be doing terrible things to."

Back in the kitchen, sweet potatoes were conquered with victorious yelling; and Shuu divvied up corn to get shaved off the cobs for tempura fritters, with Shin veering away from the counter to text furiously for a minute before holding up his phone like a trophy.

"Touma's just coming up to the building, battle stations! And he remembered the booze, bless his heart ~"

Very, exceedingly pointedly, Seiji returned to his task of dissecting crustaceans, and Ryo clambered back to his feet. What to do, what to do ... aha. If Touma was en route and the chow was just~ about ready to get itself battered and tempura'd and whatever the chicken was going to get subjected to, then --

_Perfect._

Time to do what he did best, oh yes.  
With a gleeful cackle, he threw himself at the waiting kitchen range. 

"Make way, make way -- certified firestarter and expert oil maintenance idiot coming through, clear the way -- those woks are _mine_ ~!"


End file.
